White: A Harry Potter Pensieve Short
by lookitsria
Summary: Harry discovers memories of his Godfather, Sirius Black, and uses a pensieve to view them.  The first is of his parent's wedding.


Harry ran his hand over a shelf in Sirius' old room. The dust was thick and as it floated into the air, it tickled his nose. He passed the time while he, Hermione, and Ron were in hiding by going through his Godfather's old things. There was a dresser in the corner that he wasn't able to open and wouldn't let Ron nor Hermione touch. If it was meant to be open, Harry would find a way.

He wandered over to that very dresser now, running his hand down the front. "Open," he whispered, closing his eyes. "Come on, open up." Nothing happened. He reached in his back pocket for his wand, trying a few simple spells he knew. Still nothing. He magically moved the dresser away from the wall, hearing the contents inside rattle slightly. Maybe there was some sort of trick door. He checked out the back and it was nothing but solid wood. With a sigh, he ran his hand over it again, resting it on the edge so his fingers wrapped around the corner. Suddenly he heard a few clicks and the front sprang open. He jumped back, surprised, then quickly checked the back of the cabinet again. Where his hand had been were four knots in the wood. He placed his fingers over the knots and heard the clicks again. A hidden handle.

Harry quickly flew to the front of the dresser and pulled the doors completely open. He couldn't believe his eyes and had to double check exactly where he was. Inside was a pensieve, almost identical to the one he'd used in Dumbledore's office. Next to it were bottles of memories, a pile of parchment, a quill and some ink. Harry picked up the top piece of parchment and began to read.

_Dumbledore_

_I've been reviewing my memories per your request. Attached herein are my findings._

The letter wasn't signed, but Harry would recognize Sirius' handwriting anywhere. There were a few scrolls with his handwriting as well, notes scribbled about the memories that were probably contained in the glass vials in the cabinet.

Harry plucked a few from the artfully crafted pedestal they stood on, hoping to find something of interest. They were labeled, though many seemed uninteresting. First Charms Class read one. Divination O.W.L. read another. Perhaps Dumbledore had given Sirius this task merely to keep him busy. Several were marked Azkaban and Harry never wanted to know what it was like to be there, let alone what Sirius went through while there. Feeling frustrated, Harry was about to take a break from perusing the memories when he spotted a familiar name. Lily. He grabbed the vial and read the label. Lily and James' Wedding.

Could it be, was it properly marked? There was only one way to find out. Harry hastily unstoppered the vial and poured the memory into the pensieve, diving in headfirst.

Harry twisted and turned through time, but he was used to this feeling by now. He landed on his feet in a musky hallway. He looked around, noticing a cross on the wall and a plaque that read Mill Town Church. "They were married in the muggle world," Harry mused to himself, looking around for his Godfather who must have been nearby since it was his memory. Spotting him at the end of the hall, Harry quickly went towards him just as he was entering a side room. Harry made it in just as the door closed and found himself face to face with his father.

"Nervous Prongs?" called Sirius, clapping a hand on his best friend's shoulder.

"Na, took a tonic for the nerves," came his father's joyful voice. As he always was when presented with anything having to do with his parents, Harry was wide-eyed in amazement. He couldn't tear his gaze from his father, being this close to him, even if he was just a memory, shook Harry to the core. Looking at his father was like looking in a mirror. Except for the eyes, of course. His father's eyes were the only thing they didn't have in common for Harry inherited his mother's sparklingly green eyes. "Got the rings?" his father asked.

Sirius reached in the pocket of his suit and pulled out two gold rings that shined in the sunlight filtering in from an open window. "There will be no worrying today, James. Unless, of course, Wormtail is still hiccuping butterflies and all the muggles see."

"He isn't!" James exclaimed, his eyes going as wide as Harry's as he looked worriedly at his best friend and best man. Sirius just smirked, obviously teasing. "Really, Sirius, this isn't a time for jokes or pranks." His expression turned serious. "Where's your wand?"

Sirius lifted the leg of his pants and revealed a leather band wrapped around his calf that held his wand, similar to the one Harry had used during the Triwizard tournament when he had to dive into the lake. "Couldn't leave it anywhere, James, not with what's been going on."

James nodded. "Let's just hope we won't need them." Harry watched his father lift his own pant leg to reveal a similar band around his calf that held his own wand. The duo fixed their pants and adjusted their suits.

"Now or never, James." The smile that Harry was so accustomed to was on Sirius' lips once again. He followed the two men out of the room, down the hall, and into the main church. The overall feel of the people in the church was that most of them had rarely been in the muggle world before. One side had a few people in their finest attire, clearly these were friends and family of his mother, Lily. The other side housed many odd looking people, obvious to Harry that these were witches and wizards. Their odd clothes, mismatched outfits, and outlandish hats just didn't quite fit in. Yet everyone seemed to be happy to be there, joined together on this day to celebrate.

Harry stood next to his father when they reached the front of the church, savoring in this moment of being surrounded by his family. He looked at the witches and wizards who so awkwardly tried to fit in, recognizing some of their faces from pictures or meeting them in person. He spotted Lupin and Shacklebolt right away, trying to remember the names of a few others. Where had they been after his parents had been murdered, why couldn't he have gone to live with any them? "Probably dead, too," Harry spoke to himself, knowing no one else could hear him. "Probably brave and honorable and victims just like my parent's." Harry wiped at the frustrated tears that reached his cheeks. Before he could get a good look at his mother's side of the church, music filled the room, echoing off the high ceilings. Harry's eyes darted to the back of the church as the double doors opened. He watched his Aunt Petunia, who was much younger yet still wearing her usual demeanor, glide in. Her expression of disgust was very familiar to him. She knew what James was and what half the people in this church were. He wondered if she had met Uncle Vernon by this point in her life, if he were there, or if he refused to come. Harry didn't want to waste time looking for him in the crowd, he wasn't important now. When Petunia reached the front of the church, the music changed and everyone in the church stood up. Harry didn't want to wait at the altar anymore. He sprinted down the aisle just as his mother appeared in the middle of the double doors.

She was stunning in white, her long red hair twisted up under her veil. Harry didn't know much about fashion or weddings in general, but he noticed the delicate lace of his mother's dress and how he could see her bright green eyes shining, staring straight down the aisle, right through him, no doubt right at James. He wanted to freeze the memory right here, he wanted to see his mother this happy and beautiful until the end of time.

Harry walked backwards down the aisle, not wanting to take his eyes off his mother in this moment as she seemingly floated down it towards the front, towards his father. He only broke away when he nearly tripped over the steps leading up the alter, picking a spot so he could watch the ceremony from the best angle.

The ceremony, Harry could only assume, was traditional for the muggle world. He'd never been to a wedding nor did he ever hear about any. Fluer and Bill's wedding was similar, yet magically different, naturally. He watched his parents share vows, relishing in the sound of their voices, of being so near to them. This was more addicting than the Mirror of Erised. Just then, Harry realized he could now relive this memory whenever he wanted and maybe there were more. Maybe Sirius had extracted these memories just for Harry, knowing he'd find them one day or maybe planned to show him himself.

"You may now kiss the bride," boomed the priest's voice and Harry watched his father lift his mother's veil and kiss her for the first time as husband and wife. The kiss reminded him of the intimate moments he had shared with Ginny. They faced their friends and family as the crowd erupted in cheers and applauds. He stood in his spot as they walked down the aisle, followed by Sirius and Petunia and eventually everyone else. The church swirled around him and soon he found himself back in Grimald Place in Sirius' bedroom.

"Harry! Come take a look at this!" he heard Hermione call from the floor below. He quickly shut the dresser doors, moved the cabinet back and promised himself to come back later. There had to be more memories. There had to be.


End file.
